


No-Fly Zone

by imitation_red



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Porn, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Niall-centric, Niall-centric OT5, OT5, mentions of SM, mentions of d/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imitation_red/pseuds/imitation_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who do you want, then, Nialler?” Harry asks. “I’m sure we could pull Zayn and Louis apart if need be, although one of us might get bitten -”<br/>“-fuck off, Styles -”<br/>“-but I am one hundred percent willing to make that sacrifice for you, on this momentous occasion of your deflowering,” Harry finishes, sticking his tongue out at Louis.</p>
<p>Or, Niall wants to try bottoming for all the wrong reasons. His boys help him work through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No-Fly Zone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karamelised](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karamelised/gifts).



> For the prompt, "shippy ot5 but niall being squeamish about anal sex / bottoming. The others work around it." 
> 
> my eternal gratitude to Ayo for beta'ing and cheerleading, and britpoprentboys and itinerantvae for britpicking. <3

The thing is – and he supposes it’s ironic, seeing as he’s in a polyamorous relationship with four other lads, although if he says so to Zayn he’s sure to get a long lecture on what ironic actually means, and if he says so to Harry he’d get an even longer lecture on why attaching certain types of sex to certain relationships is heteronorma-whatsit nonsense - Niall’s never really understood the appeal of having a knob shoved up your arse.

“But don’t you just want to try it? Just once?” Harry asks, disbelieving and cajoling all at once. 

Niall huffs, pointedly putting another wet plate on the stack which Harry is supposed to be drying.  
“Would you get your arse off the side, I just wiped it down.”

“Niaaaaall.”

“No, I just - not really,” Niall says. From the corner of his eye he can see Zayn shifting his attention away from Louis and Liam’s play-fighting to them. 

“But it’s so good,” Harry argues. He tries to put a half-dry plate away and Niall catches it, exasperated, putting it back on the clean-but-wet stack. “Why not?”

Niall doesn’t really feel like trying to explain his unease with the idea of something going inside him, doesn’t want to offend Harry by admitting he finds it a bit gross, so settles with, “It’s just not something I’m that into.” 

“But you don’t have a problem being on the pitching end,” Harry says, eyes bright and focused as he leans forward. It’s entirely too much attention for this kind of conversation and Niall finds himself ducking his head a bit as he reaches for the next plate. 

“That’s – different,” Niall mutters. He actually doesn’t go for it that often, often keeping to exchanging hand or blowjobs when they’re having sex. But occasionally when he’s caught in the heat of the moment he’ll give in and fuck one of them. It’s hard not to when you have someone has bloody hot as Lou or Harry or Liam or fucking Zayn Malik on their back and begging for it. 

Harry’s face is creased into a little frown. “Is it because you think it hurts?” he pries. 

“Harry,” Zayn says, “if you’re going to pester Niall instead of actually helping clean up you might as well come over here and make sure Louis doesn’t destroy the living room.”

Niall grins as Louis gives an outraged shout of protest. Harry heaves a sigh and jumps off the counter, pressing a kiss to Niall’s temple before wandering out. Zayn slots himself at the sink by Niall’s side, grabbing a tea towel as he picks up where Harry left off. 

“Thanks,” Niall says, bumping his hip gently against Zayn’s. 

“No problem, wouldn’t want you stuck here all night just ‘cause Hazza can’t stop talking long enough to clean a plate,” Zayn says companionably. 

“I meant – y’know. For getting Haz off my back.”

“Nah, don’t thank me,” Zayn says, grinning crookedly at him, “really I just don’t want you to find out how good it feels to be fucked. Five bottoms, all in one relationship? It’d be complete rubbish. We’d have to draw straws or summat to decide which poor soul has to top each night.”

Niall laughs, delighted. “Oh, so it’s all on me, then? I have to do all the work while you lazy gits lie back and enjoy yourselves? Doesn’t sound fair, does it.”

Zayn’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Sorry mate, ‘s just how it is. Hope you’ve got the stamina to satisfy all four of us tonight.”

“Worse than Haz, you are. Making me do all the washing up and all the shagging by meself,” Niall says. 

“We’re the worst,” Zayn agrees, wrapping one arm around Niall’s waist as he tucks Niall against his side. “But I’ll make it up to you later,” he adds, lips brushing against the vulnerable skin of Niall’s neck. 

Niall shivers as Zayn mouths the juncture of his neck and jaw. “Yeah?”

Zayn bites and Niall moans. “Yeah.”

\--- 

The more Niall thinks about it, though, the more it bothers him. He’s never let any of the boys even finger him, but he’s had no problem dicking all of them. They’ve never seemed to have a problem with that, but now that Niall is aware of it he can’t let it go. 

What if the lads were expecting him to bottom at some point but were too polite to outright demand it? What if they think he’s being selfish for never taking a turn?

He’s pretty sure that’s not the case, but. But. The idea sits at the back of his head, niggling, digging at him like a rock in his shoe that he can’t find and can’t get out. 

After a week Niall’s had enough. Fuck it, he decides. He’ll do it just to get end this bloody worrying. 

The next time they’re all in bed together, Zayn and Louis kissing hot and filthy, Liam cuddled sleepily against his side as Niall trades lazy kisses with Harry, he says, “Uh, I was thinking, maybe, I could try? Bottoming, I mean.”

Harry’s eyes light up in a way that soothes some of Niall’s nerves. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “I want to try.”

“It’ll be good, I promise,” Harry says earnestly. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Are you sure, Nialler? I thought you weren’t into that,” Liam says curiously. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Niall repeats, twisting to plant a kiss on Liam’s cheek. 

“Who do you want, then?” Harry asks. “I’m sure we could pull Zayn and Louis apart if need be, although one of us might get bitten -”

“-fuck off, Styles -” 

“-but I am one hundred percent willing to make that sacrifice for you, on this momentous occasion of your deflowering,” Harry finishes, sticking his tongue out at Louis.

“Well,” Niall says, laughing, because Zayn and Louis look approximately three seconds away from coming and not at all amenable to being interrupted. “I wanted Louis, but you’ll have to do, I suppose.”

“Cheeky bugger,” Harry mutters as he rummages around the sheets for the lube. 

“I get to hold you, then,” Liam announces, arranging them so that Niall is leaning back against the broad expanse of Liam’s chest. 

“I don’t need to be held, Leemo,” Niall says, smiling helplessly as Liam nuzzles his cheek.

“I know, but I want to hold you,” Liam says, and Niall tries not to burst from the rush of fondness he feels for these four ridiculous lads.

A loud moan from Louis draws his attention. Niall glances to the side just in time to see Zayn’s teeth sunk in Louis’ shoulder as he shudders through his orgasm, Louis quickly following suit. 

“Have you two come already, honestly,” Harry sighs, and then yelps when Louis reaches over to twist his nipple none-too-gently. 

Zayn smiles sheepishly at Niall, pink-cheeked and fucked out and lovely. Niall leans over and steals a kiss from him, savouring the feel of Zayn’s beard against his skin. 

He pulls back when Harry starts gently nudging his thighs apart, making room and settling down between them. He can feel a blush starting to burn at his skin, which is bloody ridiculous because he’s spread his legs for blowjobs before, but. It’s different somehow, now. 

Harry’s planting sweet kisses up the inside of his thigh and Niall tries not to tense up, but Liam must feel it because he kisses Niall’s temple and murmurs, “alright?”

Niall is halfway through replying when Harry’s fingers ghost down his perineum, and the hitch in his breath cracks his “f-fine” in two. 

“Slowly, Hazza,” Louis says, reprimanding, petting Niall’s side. 

“I haven’t even touched him yet,” Harry protests, as Niall repeats “I’m fine.”

Zayn presses a kiss to his forehead. “Relax, babe,” he murmurs. “If you wanna stop just let us know, alright?”

Perversely, all the double-checking is making Niall more determined to get on with it. “I’m good,” he says firmly, trying not to jump at Harry’s touch. 

His finger is warm and slick as it presses into the seam of Niall’s body. It hasn’t even reached his hole yet and it already feels intrusive and huge. Niall fights the urge to draw his legs together and pull away, instead tugging Zayn down for a snog. 

“You’re so tense,” Harry says. “Relax.”

“Nobody relaxes on command, Hazza, instead of telling him why don’t you put that mouth to better use,” Louis says, fisting Harry’s curls and pulling at him. 

Harry goes, opening his mouth and letting Louis push him down Niall’s dick, which has been flagging under nerves. Louis forces Harry to deepthroat, taunting him when Harry starts to gag, spurring him to try and take Niall deeper. It’s hot as hell and Niall feels himself start to harden again. 

Harry’s fingertip is against his arsehole, not pressing, just stroking as if trying to get him used to the idea. Niall tries to lose himself in kissing Zayn, tries to focus on Harry’s sweet mouth around him, tries to think about anything except how much he does not want anything going up there. By sheer force of will he makes himself relax, exhaling slowly as he lets Harry in. 

“Good, babe, you’re doing so good,” Zayn murmurs, stroking Niall’s hair. He shivers at the praise, moans as Liam starts to suck a love bite into his neck. Maybe this won’t be too bad, he rationalises, ignoring the strange heavy presence in his arse. 

Harry crooks his finger and Niall jolts as it brushes across his prostate. Harry hums, pleased, and it’s the vibrations rather than the pressure inside him that makes Niall groan aloud. 

“There we go, there’s a lad,” Louis says, rubbing Niall’s belly. It’s ridiculous and not sexy at all and makes Niall laugh into Liam’s mouth, relaxing further. 

His breath catches as Harry eases a second finger in. The stretch is more intense now, uncomfortable and foreign with just a hint of pain, and Niall can’t believe that this is just two fingers. His stomach drops as he thinks about how an entire dick would feel, and sudden panic flutters like a trapped, frantic bird in his chest. 

_He really does not want to do this._

“Stop,” Niall’s voice cracks on the word, embarrassment and panic making his throat constrict. “Please, I. Don’t.”

Harry pulls out immediately, eyes wide with alarm. With no small amount of horror Niall realizes his eyes are burning; mortified, he hides his face in Liam’s neck. 

“Nialler? Hey, what’s wrong?” Liam strokes Niall’s hair, sounding distressed. 

“Oh, fuck,” he hears Louis mutter as Harry says, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, did he – I should have stopped sooner, Niall I’m sorry -”

“No, it’s – I’m fine, don’t apologise,” Niall says, pressing his face harder against Liam’s shoulder. “I’m just – being an eejit, don’t know why I’m freaking out, ‘s fucking dumb -”

“It’s not dumb,” Harry says, sounding so upset that Niall stops hiding against Liam. “You can’t – your feelings are never dumb, _ever._ How could you - ” Harry cuts himself off, looking like he’s close to tears himself. Helplessly, Niall reaches out and pulls Harry against him, hugging him as tightly as he can. 

He hears Harry’s breath shudder as the other lad clings back. “Did you want me to stop earlier? Did you want me to stop and not say anything?” Harry demands, and Niall hates himself a little for fucking this up so spectacularly. 

“No, I thought I could – I thought I could go through with it,” Niall tries to explain. 

It’s the wrong thing to say, judging by Liam’s sharp inhale and the way Zayn and Louis exchange looks. “Go through with it?” Zayn echoes. “Babe, we thought you wanted to try it?”

“I did,” Niall insisted. “I did, I just – I didn’t know I would feel like that until I did, and then I said stop.”

There’s a moment of silence, where no one seems to know how to proceed, and Niall feels guilt settle heavy in his gut. 

“Was it because of me?” Harry says in a small voice. “That you wanted to try it? Because of what I said last week?”

“ **No** ,” Niall says, with as much conviction as he can muster, because even if that’s the case he can’t let Haz blame himself when it’s his own bloody fault for being a careless twat. “No. I was just curious. And now I’ve tried it, and I don’t think it’s my thing, and you didn’t do anything wrong, Hazza, you were perfect and so so good. Okay? Please don’t cry, I love you,” he says, a bit desperately, because Harry still looks teary and is breathing in short hiccupy gasps, and it hurts to see him like this, to know that he caused this. 

To his immense gratitude, Louis takes over from there, pulling Harry into his lap and murmuring reassurances, instructing him to breathe in and out slowly. 

“How’re you feeling?” Liam asks him, eyes hooded with concern. 

Zayn scoots up behind him, tucking his chin over Niall’s shoulder. Niall leans back against him and snorts mirthlessly. “Like I completely killed the mood and made Harry cry on top of it. So a bit shit, to be completely honest.” 

Liam smiles tentatively. “Well, we can always get another mood going, and Harry cries every time he sees an animal rescue advert, so. I suspect it’s all salvageable.”

“I don’t cry every time,” Harry says, voice sounding watery but calmer, now, with Louis wrapped around him. “And they’re really sad adverts, anyway, who doesn’t cry over heartbroken abandoned puppies and kittens.” 

“This is doing nothing to bring the mood back,” Liam sighs, looking upward long-sufferingly. “Only Zayn and Lou got to come, it’s an injustice.”

Harry giggles weakly as Louis huffs. “Oh come here, you big baby, I’ll suck you off.” 

Harry gets deposited into Niall’s lap as Louis tackles Liam. “Hey,” Niall says quietly, carefully swiping his thumbs over the dampness under Harry’s eyes. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you did something wrong. You didn’t, Haz, I promise.”

“I’m sorry I pestered you about trying something you didn’t want to do,” Harry says, leaning into Niall’s hands. “I thought you would like it, cause I really do, and I wanted to give you that feeling so much that I forgot not everybody likes it. I’m sorry for crying and making it about me when everyone should’ve been focusing on you and making sure you were okay.”

It’s the last bit that punches out a broken noise from Niall, and he kisses Harry hard, trying to convey all the emotions that won’t fit into words through his body. “That’s not – no. That’s _not_ something you need to apologize for. Zayn, tell him,” Niall pleads. 

Zayn’s watching them both, eyes soft. “I know you’re thinking you should’ve known to stop before Niall had to say so,” he tells Harry quietly. “And that’s why you got so upset. But you couldn’t have known, babe, none of us did. Alright? And I think, between the five of us, we can make sure both you and Niall are okay.”

Harry nods, looking calmer. “’Kay,” he says, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder. “Are we still gonna have sex? Because I’m fine with just sleeping. Or sex. But sleep would be great.”

“Are you really gonna choose sleep over sex? Never thought I’d see the day,” Zayn teases gently, stroking Harry’s fringe out of his eyes. 

“Sleep. Definitely sleep,” Niall says, the emotional turmoil of the last half hour starting to take its toll. Harry makes a noise of agreement, mumbling, “bagsy little spoon.” He guesses they fall asleep like that, because his last memory is of curling around Harry’s back, Zayn pulling the covers up around them.

\---

In the morning Niall still feels off-kilter, like he doesn’t quite fit in his skin. He eats quickly, before the others wake up, and decides that all the errands he’s been putting off need to get done today. He spends the morning running around town, takes pictures with a few fans, and hopes the normalcy of it will ground him somehow.

It doesn’t make his skin fit any better. 

When he gets back Zayn is curled up with a book on the sofa. He glances up when Niall enters the room, takes a long moment to study Niall’s face, and lifts one arm wordlessly.

Niall immediately curls against his side, squirming against Zayn until he’s pressed as much skin as possible against him. With an abrupt sigh he goes still, zoning in on the soothing thrum of Zayn’s heartbeat.

“Alright, babes?” Zayn asks, tilting his chin up so Niall can burrow into his neck. 

“Nghff,” Niall mumbles, mouth pressed against Zayn’s warm skin. 

“Sounds serious,” Zayn says sympathetically, rubbing Niall’s shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

Niall considers it. He knows Zayn won’t push, and that alone is enough for him to speak. “I just – you know. Last night. Feeling a bit down about it.” 

“You know nobody is mad with you, right?” Zayn says, gently. “Nobody else is upset or disappointed or whatever.” 

Niall picks at the seam of Zayn’s jeans before answering. “’M mad at myself though.”

There’s a pause while Zayn tries to sort that out. “Are you mad because you wanted to try it and you couldn’t get there, or because you feel like you should be able to do it?” 

Niall squirms a little bit. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “It’s just – it’s embarrassing. That you all can and I can’t.”

“Okay, I get why you feel that way,” Zayn says, “but, babes, people aren’t gonna be comfortable doing the same things. It’s not that we can and you can’t, it’s that we want to, and if you don’t, that’s alright.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Niall pauses, thinks about letting it drop, but there’s something itching in his chest and it needs to get out. 

“It doesn’t seem fair, though,” Niall blurts out, voice small. “Because you all bottom for me – but I won’t for you, it’s just. It just seems selfish.”

“Babe,” Zayn breathes, pulling back a little to look Niall in the eye. “Babe, no. You shouldn’t do something like that because you feel _obligated_ to.” 

Niall fidgets, picking at a stray thread on Zayn’s jeans. He hears Zayn sigh, and then Zayn’s index finger is under his chin, gently coaxing him to meet his gaze.

“Nialler, we don’t let you fuck us with the expectation that you’ll let us fuck you. It’s not like a – a burden or a sacrifice on our part. We like it. You think that we don’t love it?” Zayn asks, sounding a bit incredulous now. “Have you seen the way Harry moans, or Liam writhes for it? Fuck, have you seen me when I’m getting dicked? Turn into a proper slut for it, don’t I?”

Niall shivers, cock stirring in interest as a blush blooms on his face and chest. “Yeah,” he rasps. 

Zayn cocks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, you get it, or yeah, you’re thinking of me getting dicked?” he laughs. 

Niall grins cheekily. “Both?”

“Too bad, I want to finish this chapter, ‘s getting to the good bit,” Zayn laughs, tongue pressing against his teeth as he smiles. Niall groans theatrically and flops down so his head is in Zayn’s lap. 

“Tease,” he accuses, nuzzling into the warmth of Zayn’s belly. 

Zayn hums, carding fingers through his hair as he flips open his book again. “Uh-huh. You love it.”

Niall smiles helplessly, something warm and sweet unfurling in his chest. “Yeah. Love you.”

\--- 

In the afternoon Liam demands a partner to play footie with, so Niall obliges, laughing at the face Zayn pulls when Liam tries to get him to join in.

Aside from earnestly telling him that he never wants to do anything Niall is uncomfortable with, and to please always be honest with them, Liam seems blessedly untroubled with last night’s fiasco. It’s only when the sun starts to set that Niall realises he hasn’t seen or heard from Harry or Louis all day. 

“Did Lou and Hazza go out?” he asks Liam. 

Liam shrugs. “Don’t think so, they went and holed themselves up in that room of theirs a little bit after you left.”

A knot of unease forms in Niall’s gut. “And they’ve been there since?”

“I guess.”

It’s probably nothing, Niall tells himself, firmly. Nothing. 

Zayn helps him make dinner, and Liam contributes in the form of reading aloud some of the more entertaining fan tweets. They’ve just started setting the table when Louis and Harry make an appearance. 

Niall’s heart sinks as he discreetly studies Harry. The other boy is quiet, mellow, and clingy in a way that only happens if he’s still in subspace. Louis puts one of the sofa cushions down before Harry takes a seat, but Niall still catches the way he winces as he sits. The knot of unease grows tighter. 

Louis is unmistakably distant with him, attentive and affectionate with Harry and joking with Liam and Zayn, but treating Niall with the cool politeness usually reserved for uninvited guests. Unused to being outside the warm circle of Louis’ love, Niall doesn’t dare try and bridge the gap. He eats in silence, too cowed and unsettled to talk to the others. 

Before they start clearing the table Louis pulls him aside. “Niall. Could I talk to you for a moment, please,” he says, and despite the phrasing it’s not a question. 

“Course,” Niall replies, ignoring the way anxiety twists his gut. He follows Louis out to the back patio. Louis closes the door behind them with a firm click. 

“Did you talk to anyone? About last night?” Louis starts. He’s turned partially away from Niall, and the shadows cast make it difficult to see his face.

Niall swallows. “Yeah, to Zayn. And Liam, a bit.”

“What about, specifically?”

“Just – about how I shouldn’t do things I don’t want to, or aren’t comfortable with,” Niall says, flushing a little. 

Louis nods. “Good. They’re right.” He turns to face him, and Niall’s stomach drops right out of him, because can’t read his expression at all. 

“The way you said “stop”,” Louis beings, eyes dark and intent, “was the way someone says stop when they can’t hold it in any longer.”

Niall opens his mouth, finds he has nothing to say, and shuts it. 

“I want to know why you were holding it in.”

There’s a long silence, where Niall tries to find his voice, and Louis stares at him, unrelenting. 

“It’s not – it doesn’t feel like a big of a deal as you make it sound,” Niall says. 

“Do you know how many times I had to flog Hazza before he stopped begging me to punish him?” Louis says, flatly, and Niall goes cold, heart stopping. “It sounds like a big deal because it is. You said you were fine when you weren’t fine. You said you wanted it when you didn’t.”

“You punished Harry?” Niall asks, shaking. “But it wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

Niall flinches violently, dropping his head low. He’s never really understood the dom/sub thing that Lou and Haz have going, never understood Harry’s need to earn approval at the cost of pain. But right now, frozen with guilt and with Louis’ disapproval searing into him, Niall would like very much to ask for punishment, atone, and be forgiven. 

“It’s dumb,” he starts, staring fixedly at the floor. “It’s all rubbish. I just didn’t get why any of you like bottoming, so I guess a part of me assumed that you didn’t. And you were just doing it. And I felt like I was being selfish, not reciprocating, so I thought. I thought I’d just do it too.”

Louis exhales slowly. “That is rubbish,” he agrees. “You absolute muppet. Come here.”

Niall falters but obeys, and almost cries in relief when Louis sweeps him into a tight hug. “Why didn’t you _talk to us_ ,” he reprimands, squeezing Niall so tightly that it hurts. Niall doesn’t complain, burying his face against Louis’ neck and soaking up Louis’ love. “You can’t assume things like that. You can’t keep quiet when something is bothering you that much. Next time: just talk to us. Just _talk to one of us._ If this happens again I swear I will actually pull you over my knee.”

Niall shivers at the threat and presses himself closer. “You could do that, now,” he says, hesitant. “Figure I more’n deserve it.”

Louis pulls back to study him; whatever he sees must be good enough, because his face softens as he exhales. “Oh, love.”

“Did you really flog Harry?” Niall asks, raw and guilty and shaken. “Because of me?”

Louis sighs and tucks Niall’s head under his chin. “Don’t think about it, love. What’s done is done and he’s fine now. It’s all sorted.”

“I’m sorry,” Niall whispers into Louis’ neck. “I’m really sorry.”

“Shhh, I know you are.” Louis rocks him back and forth, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay? I didn’t tell you that to make you feel like shit or anything. I wanted you to understand why you can’t do that again.” 

Niall laughs weakly. “Feeling like a complete gobshite anyway,” he says, pressing his face against Louis’ bony shoulder until it hurts, wishing he could just melt into this boy he loves and disappear. “You’re not angry with me? Not even a little bit?” he asks, voice small.

“I was angry,” Louis admits, squeezing him tight as if to lessen the sting of the words. “But I know you didn’t mean to scare us. It was a dumb mistake, and I’ve made plenty of those. D’you remember that time I agreed to go on a run with Payno? Terrible mistake. Awful. Couldn’t walk for weeks. We’re both idiots, clearly meant for each other.”

Niall giggles despite himself, and Louis smiles softly at him. “C’mon, love. It’s getting cold out here. Back inside we get.”

\--- 

There’s something wet and scratchy running down the sides of his buttocks, and it’s disturbing his sleep. Liam is muffling sniggers somewhere behind him; Niall opens his eyes a fraction and squints over Harry’s curls at the alarm clock. 7:30. Too bloody early. 

“No, make them wider,” Louis orders in a whisper, and Liam hisses back, “he’ll wake up!” 

The distinctive smell of sharpie clues Niall in. “What’re you wankers doing,” he grumbles, twitching involuntarily as the tip of it tickles his inner thighs. 

There’s a burst of giggles from Liam. “Absolutely nothing, Neil, now be a dear and go back to sleep,” Louis says airly, patting his bare bum.

Zayn is a long line of warmth against his side, and Niall is disinclined to get up and stop them, even knowing it’ll be a right pain to wash off what feels like twelve sharpie’d dicks. Niall drifts back into a light snooze, Liam and Louis’ hushed voices washing over him soothingly.

When he wakes up again Zayn has joined the conversation and seems none too pleased. “-still sensitive about it, why did you think this would be funny -”

“It’s to show him it’s okay! Zaynie we’re not trying to make him feel bad-”

It’s too fecking early for arguments. Niall props himself up on his elbows and turns around, taking in Liam and Louis’ slightly guilty faces, and Zayn’s worried frown. 

There is, surprisingly, no cocks drawn on his arse. There are a series of black lines flanking either side of it, what might be an aeroplane on his upper thigh, and writing at the small of his back. Niall tilts his head, trying to make it out. 

“No… fly… zone,” he reads aloud, blinks twice, and bursts into cackles. 

“Too loud,” Harry whines piteously, batting weakly at him. Niall catches his hand and holds it, still snorting with laughter. 

“Bloody idiots, both of you,” he says, grinning widely as he inspects the drawings more closely, delighted to find that the aeroplane is, in fact, a dick with wings. “This is terrible. Zayn, fix it. Neither of you become artists.”

He suspects the way Liam and Lou relax has more to do with relief over the fact that Zayn’s smiling too now, but he doesn’t mind. There’s a Sharpie lying unattended next to him and two boys who are in need of swift retribution, and Niall’s never been one to fight karma.


End file.
